supra_et_ultra | (no subject)

(no subject)

Jiang is aware that he's always been sort of on the outside of the group, of any group, at Aglionby. He doesn't come from an up-and-coming family, like most of the Vancouver kids. He isn't white, like the rest of Prokopenko and Kavinsky's miscreants. But he is vital. He is reliable. He is dedicated to these boys.

He is aware that, in more than just what he looks like or where he comes from, he's a little outside of the group. It comes in waves, in whispers. In a tiny scowl when Skov sneers something nasty, or Swan assures that his watching Jiang at soccer practice isn't a gay thing. Jiang never says anything about it. He isn't, so it doesn't matter.

But his eyes linger. He looks at boys as much as he looks at girls, and that's probably pretty dangerous for him to do. So he's quiet and doesn't say anything about it.

Tonight, they're getting high in Kavinsky's weird in-home theater. Kavinsky has taken over three seats all to himself. Skov's wandered off to hit on Kavinsky's mom. Jiang has no idea where Swan is. But Prokopenko is nearby, half glancing toward Kavinsky's ostensibly sleeping form as if no one will notice. Jiang does. He pinches his joint between his fingers and sits down, offering it to Proko as he exhales slowly.

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He arches a little, nudging his ass back towards Jiang's fingers after the second one pushes in. There's a little stretch but it feels good.

Proko tightens his fingers in Jiang's hair, just holding onto him. "Don't stop."

Jiang laughs softly, but it's a gentle thing. Proko's voice, muffled into the pillow and thick with his accent, sounds pornographic. Jiang's cock twitches. He fucks him with those two fingers, scissoring a little, stretching him.

"You're gonna feel so good," Jiang promises against Proko's ear. "My cock's gonna feel so good in you."

Prokopenko is doing just fine until Jiang starts talking. What the fuck? He shivers, distracted from the movement of Jiang's fingers for a moment.

"Yeah it is," he breathes. Jiang's voice is heavy and warm and fucking sexy, what the fuck. "Gimme more," he mumbles. "You're fuckin thick."

Jiang chuckles, rubbing his cock against the back of Proko's thigh. "You weren't complaining when you were giving me road head, man. Seemed to like it thick."

But Jiang gives him another finger, trying to keep going slow when all he wants is to fuck Proko already.

"Really fucking like choking on your dick, yeah." It comes out as a moan, and it's fucking true. Proko shivers and tries to move his leg, tries to open up a little more to help Jiang's effort.

"Fuck, man," Jiang breathes, a laugh, a prayer. He hoists Proko's upper leg up, and then over his own thigh. It's not the best angle, but it opens him up as Jiang fingers him a bit deeper.

He, maybe, peers down at Proko's cock, just watching it for a second as it twitches. It's probably the prettiest thing about Proko. How fucking stupid.

Proko's free hand flies to his mouth, covering it as Jiang's fingers sink deeper. His cock is aching; he can feel little trails of precome from where it's brushed against his stomach. He uncovers his mouth and lets his hand slide down, just loosely holding his cock. He doesn't even try to stroke, not yet.

"C'mon," he urges, breathless.

"Shit, uh. Yeah. Holy fuck." Jiang laughs and sits up, not quite taking out his fingers yet. He needs a condom. He needs more lube.

He doesn't want any of that shit, but he needs it, if they're really doing this.

Proko gropes for the bag, trying to be helpful. He struggles with the box of condoms but manages to get it open, got one passed back to Jiang.

His arousal is biting through the haze of pot and beer and all he can think of is the way Jiang's fingers are filling him up, and how fucking hot he feels everywhere their bodies touch.

It's a series of fumbles later, careful ones, before Jiang has the condom on and slicked up. He eases his fingers out of Proko's ass and laughs, grabbing his shirt to clean his fingers off, tossing the bit of fabric aside.

Gently, he pushes Proko onto his belly and moves between his sprawling thighs. He rubs the head of his cock against Proko's hole, and then, slowly, guides himself in.

"Oh, fuck."

Proko moves easily, almost bonelessly, as Jiang nudges him onto his stomach. He manages to get his knees under him but he stays low. The moment draws out, lasting forever and just a few seconds before he feels Jiang push against him, push into him.

"Fuck," he echoes, trying to keep quiet as Jiang pushes in. It feels kinda tight but he doesn't care. It's good. "Fuck, Jiang. Shit."

Jiang bites his lip. It's an effort not to just grab Proko's hips and fuck into him, like he might have with a girl. Proko's slick, but tight, and he sounds so, so good with that first ease in.

"Don't stop, don't stop," he pants, shoulders down as he rests his weight on his forearms. He doesn't think Jiang will stop, but fuck he can't shut up. He just--he just has to keep it down. He can do that.

Prokopenko bites his lip and grips the blankets beneath him.

Boldly, Jiang slaps a hand against Proko's ass. It made a sharp noise, but not too loud, he thinks. It lets him slip in another inch, another inch--he's surprised when he bottoms out, sighing out a breath and bracing his hands on the bed.

"Holy shit, Illya."

Proko jumps and pushes his face against the bed to stifle the sound he makes when Jiang smacks his ass. Holy shit. He lets his knees slide further apart as Jiang pushes deeper, deeper, until he can feel Jiang's hips pushing up against his ass. He shivers when Jiang says his name.

"Fuck," he whines. "Oh fuck, Will. You feel good." He felt so full but it was really fucking good.

Jiang can't remember the last time Proko said his name. Never like this. Something burns into Jiang's stomach.

He grabs Proko by the hips, and starts slowly once he's centered himself a little. He wants to fuck him, not hurt him. Sometimes, there's a fine line. Tonight, it feels like a pretty fucking obvious distinction.

Proko sinks into it when Jiang grips his hips. It's like nothing else he's felt. The lube makes the slide easy and before long hrs starting to rock back, he's trying to meet each thrust.

He mumbles into the bed, only half in English and even when he manages that his accent mangles it.

"Holy shit," Jiang breathes as Proko starts to move, as he works his hips back to meet the thrusts. Jiang is always proud of his second round, but he's going to go insane like this.

He hauls Proko's hips up a little higher, and fucks into him a little harder. "Like this?"

"Oh shit, oh shit yes, like that." Proko moans sharply, arching his back a little as Jiang fucks into him, picking up the pace like he means it. There's something exceptionally satisfying in feeling, hearing, Jiang's hips smack against his ass with every thrust.

"Fuck Will. Trakhny mene yak poviya."

Edited 2017-02-24 05:05 (UTC)

"Ssh," Jiang murmurs, but his smile is thick in his voice. He leans down, hips still pistoning, and scrapes his teeth against the nape of Proko's neck. He gives Proko another playful slap on the ass.

"I don't speak Ukrainian, asshole," he murmurs. "Ni yao wo shuo zhongwen ma?"

The teeth, the tease of Jiang's breath against his neck have him moaning. He's trying to be quiet, he is. His voice catches the next time Jiang slaps his ass and it's not fucking fair how much he likes the sting of it.

"I can't-- I can't--" He hiccups on his breath, unable to get the words out. He can't speak Chinese; he isn't sure he can keep translating himself. He meant to say at least one of those. Instead his hand gropes back, pressed it over Jiang's where it's gripping his hip. Proko hopes there's finger-shaped bruises when this is over. "Shit-- shit, oh fuck," he gasps, tensing for a second when Jiang's dick does something just fucking right. Holy fuck.

"Fuck I wanna come," he whimpers.

Jiang bites his lip for a second. He wants that too; he wants to come too, though not quite yet.

He pulls out and drags Proko around onto his back. He can't look right at him, a little embarrassed to want this so badly, but he nudges back in, wrapping Proko's legs around his hips and grabbing the other boy's hips so he can fuck into him roughly.

"Rang wo kan ni."

"What the fuck," he gasps when Jiang just pulls out like that. Proko doesn't have a lot of time to make a full protest though because he's on his back, looking up at Jiang as he pushes close again, pushes in. His thighs tighten against Jiang's sides and he can't help the euphoric look that crosses his face.

"Oh fuck," he moans, mouth hanging open. "Fuck-- fuck, like that, like that."

He grips the pillow, the blanket, whatever the fuck he can get his hands on as he tries to keep moving, to meet every hard thrust of Jiang's hips. Proko drops one hand down to stroke his cock, needing, needing to fucking come.

Prokopenko slaps his free hand over his own mouth, struggling to shut up when his orgasm hits him, more intense than the one in the back seat.

In that moment, Proko looks so euphoric, so blissful, that Jiang thinks he knows why Kavinsky is always looking at him.

"Holy shit," Jiang hisses. Proko makes a mess of his stomach and chest, and Jiang keeps going, desperate, straining. And watching Proko now, watching the faces he makes as he's fucked.

He isn't sure which is better: getting fucked when he's feeling needy or getting fucked after he's come. Prokopenko moaned, voice muffled behind his hand as Jiang fucked into him, the force of it making him rock a little.

Slowly he let his hand slide away, instead trying to grab Jiang's thigh, urging him on. "Fuck you feel so good," he whimpers, voice strained as he tries to stay quiet.